Quotes About Tears

Because tears look like stars hanging on your eyelashes.

I've been a victim in every film I have done so far. It would be nice to play someone who doesn't get killed for once. Then again, I am getting really good at screaming and fake tears.

My favorite actress of all times is Bette Davis in Dark Victory. I have seen it six or seven times, and I still cry.

I'm a big crier. I never cry when something is painful, but I cry if things are frustrating. Like if I'm trying to do something, and I mess up over and over. If I'm playing a video game, and I can't beat a level that I've tried 10 times, I'll cry. When I was a kid, I think I cried for every practice from 2003 to the middle of 2006.

She felt tears slip from beneath her lashes, no matter how she tried to blink them back. Her heart was ablaze. It seemed that her entire life had led to this man, this moment of unexpressed love.

No, she said. She was crying because Irene had the same tracksuit that Paulie Walnuts was wearing.

My heart is empty & my life has no value anymore. Each moment a thousand tears.

I pour the pain into ink and write and write and write. The words paint pictures and I live Mr. Bass Carter's life through lines and pen. This, I know now, is story at its highest capability. It agitates us to genuine joy and tears. Within story, we are given a new soul, another's soul to try on like clothing, knowing we can shed it again should we choose.

One by one, drops fell from her eyes like they were on an assembly line - gather, fall, slide...gather, fall, slide...each one commemorating something she had lost. Hope. Faith. Confidence. Pride. Security. Trust. Independence. Joy. Beauty. Freedom. Innocence.

She didn't mind a little rain. At least no one would see her cry.

If you love a Dream Woman ... let her stay the divine Woman of the Dream. To awaken and clasp flesh and blood, no matter how delicately tender, and find that love has sped at the dawn is a misery too deep for tears.

For the girl without words, there is laughter for what is light, gesture for want, and tears for all that is dark. There is not much more. Names are nothing but extravagance.

I try to cry, and can't, but even with dry eyes it's all so confusing.

The busy have no time for tears.

And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being.

Oh too convincing - dangerously dear - In woman's eye the unanswerable tear

Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears and tortures, and the touch of joy.

Away! we know that tears are vain, That Death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou — who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

In secret we met - In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears

The stars in the dark vault of sky were endless. Soft green and blue light with tinges of peach at the edges waved across it in silent curtains. The curtains of gods. "I think she's watching us from up there." Tears leaked silently down her face. And in that instant she was certain that from up there, everything must look like it had a plan. A reason. A pattern. She just couldn't see it from down here.

This time he heard his sister clearly sniffling and blowing her nose. It sliced him. Lou, his capable, businesslike older sister, was crying.

They had nothing. He wanted to weep. She makes men cry, Morris had said. Maybe they ought to.

Perhaps men apologize preemptively, by holding their tears back.

This was grief: You laugh. You cry. Repeat.